


Scars

by jaybear1701



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Or it can lead right up to the opening scene in that ep, Set sometime before episode 1x02, take your pick!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24064687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaybear1701/pseuds/jaybear1701
Summary: Raelle shares a bit of her past with Scylla.
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 14
Kudos: 182





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been nearly a year-and-a-half since a show inspired me to write fic. Motherland Fort Salem and Raylla awakened the muse in me again. Might be a little rusty, though. Go easy on me.

A light caress skimmed down the side of Raelle’s face, stirring her from slumber. Any minute now, Abigail would bark out her usual annoying, “Let’s move, soldiers!” while Tally would sing-song a good morning in her usual chipper fashion. But Raelle didn’t want to wake just yet. **  
**

Her body felt heavy and she snuggled into her pillow, taking in the scent of sweet earth and burnt incense and something... darker. Something Raelle couldn’t quite recognize, but felt familiar all the same. 

The touch returned, grazing her left cheek. It tickled, and Raelle swatted weakly at the offending hand. “Quit, Tal,” she mumbled into starchy cotton. 

A soft chuckle followed, and warm lips pressed against the faint scar above her jaw. “I didn’t realize your unit was that close,” came an amused voice that most definitely did not belong to a haughty High Atlantic or an overly cheerful NorCal ball of sunshine.

Raelle’s eyes snapped open, vision slowly coming to focus on a deep shade of blue gazing back at her. “Scyl?” The nickname slipped out before she could stop it. If Scylla hated it, she hid it behind an impish smile.

“Did I not make last night memorable enough, Private Collar?” Scylla leaned in with a smirk, placing another kiss to the corner of Raelle’s mouth. “Need a reminder about where you are?”

“No, I…,” Raelle shook her head to clear any last remnants of drowsiness. “Sorry.” A flush trickled up her neck as memories of the previous night flashed across her mind. Echoes of slick heat and friction, sighs and gasps, settled in the pit of her stomach. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

She normally didn’t. In fact, she made a deliberate point to not linger too long after her late visits with the Necro cadet. Partly to avoid Abigail’s disapproving lectures about the penalties of missing inspection. Partly to ignore the fullness beneath her ribs that seemed to expand, bit by bit, whenever she spent time with Scylla.

_No connections_ , Raelle forced herself to remember. _No attachments_. It was easier that way. 

Scylla, though… Scylla with her gorgeous eyes, bright smile, and uncanny ability to Just get Raelle. Well, she just put a big ol’ wrench in all of Raelle’s well-laid plans.

“It’s okay.” Scylla rested her head back on the single pillow they shared, smooth hair dark against white. The thin sheet wrapped loosely around them rustled as they faced each other, side-by-side, on the narrow bed. “You looked like you needed it.”

Raelle couldn’t even argue. The first weeks of basic training had been, and continued to be, grueling. Despite her exhaustion, she didn’t sleep well in her bunk in the best of times. And slept even less on other, particularly active, nights. 

Raelle’s line of sight traveled to the window. Darkness still cloaked Scylla’s bare quarters, though it was fading as the day crept toward dawn. “What time is it?”

“Early.” Scylla smoothed back a few strands of blonde behind Raelle’s left ear. “‘We’ve got some time before the first bell.” 

The tips of Scylla’s fingers returned once again to the scar, outlining the indentation from cheek to chin. Raelle shivered .

Unlike some of the other cadets, Scylla had never once asked Raelle about it. In some ways, it was a relief. Raelle wasn’t too keen about sharing her past with others outside of her unit. _No connections. No attachments._ But other times, like now, when she was so close to Scylla yet still so far, her heart twinged in a way that was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

“You can ask me about it, you know,” Raelle said. She fought the urge to hold her breath. “You’ve never been curious?”

Scylla’s hand stilled, and Raelle used the opportunity to grasp it and kiss her palm. 

“I didn’t want to pry,” Scylla murmured.

The truth was, deep down, Raelle wanted Scylla to pry. Despite her mantras about distance, she wanted Scylla to _want_ to know more about her. In spite of her mantras about distance, deep down Raelle wanted to know everything about Scylla, who seemed even more masterful than Raelle about dodging questions about herself and her past.

“It was the day we found out about my mom,” Raelle began before she lost her nerve. “How she died in a firefight in Liberia, against the Spree.”

Scylla tensed beside her, a shadow darkening the blue of her eyes. “Raelle, you don’t have to…”

“I want to.” Raelle squeezed Scylla’s hand reassuringly before letting go. Scylla rested it on her shoulder, thumb grazing lightly over her thin shirt. “I can’t even remember the officer’s name or what she looked like. All I remember was the sound of her voice and…” A familiar ache bloomed inside Raelle. She swallowed it down, focusing on Scylla and the concern etched across her beautiful face. “The next thing I knew, I was on my bed with my head wrapped in a bandage.”

“You lost control.” There was no judgment in Scylla’s voice. 

“My dad said the wind was so fierce, it shattered the glass door to our living room.” Raelle chuckled, a sad sound in the hush of the room. “I had to fix a lot of people to replace it.”

“And this?” Scylla reverently traced the blemish.

Raelle bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “I didn’t want it fixed all the way.” 

“Why?” Scylla asked, even though Raelle suspected she already knew.

“Because.” Raelle slowly pushed Scylla onto her back, the bedsprings creaking beneath them. “I wanted a reminder of that day.” She settled atop Scylla, their bodies slotting together perfectly. “A reminder of what the Army did to her.”

Scylla cupped her face and kissed her so tenderly that tears prickled behind Raelle’s eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” Scylla whispered against her lips.

Raelle’s heart swelled and thudded almost painfully. “In spite of the scar?”

Shaking her head, Scylla nuzzled her cheek. “Because of it.”

At a loss for words, Raelle exhaled long and slow. She buried her face in the crook of Scylla’s neck, breathing in the sweetness of skin tinged with sweat and that dark something Raelle still couldn’t place. Death, her mind supplied, unbidden. She wondered if all Necros, surrounded by the dead constantly, shared a similar scent. 

“What about you?” Raelle asked to distract herself from that line of thought. 

“Me?”

“Do you have scars?” Raelle pushed against her better judgment. She couldn’t help it. She felt raw. Exposed. She craved reciprocation. Wanted to explore depths hidden underneath still waters.

Scylla’s arms, which had wrapped around her shoulders, tightened imperceptibly. “Don’t we all?” She deflected, guarded as always.

A pang of disappointment shot through Raelle, and she lifted herself slightly. Scylla’s gaze was hooded, cautious in a way that Raelle understood all too well.

The first bell chimed in the distance, its clangs drifting lazily into the room. Raelle imagined Tally was already bounding off the top bunk, much too perky for the hour, while Abigail scowled at Raelle’s empty bunk. “I should go,” Raelle said, moving to disentangle herself from Scylla’s arms.

“Don’t,” Scylla breathed out, tightening her grip. She pulled the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. “We still have time.”

Give me time, her blue eyes seemed to implore, glowing as the sun’s first rays bathed the room in early morning light.

“Okay,” Raelle nodded. 

“Okay?” Scylla sounded almost surprised, brow smoothing.

Raelle found she couldn’t say no even if she wanted to. Even if it hurt. “Yeah, okay,” she said.

She settled back into Scylla’s warmth, the throb in her chest dulling with each press of Scylla’s lips and each stroke of her fingers, but not fully receding.


End file.
